


Glory and Gore

by LuxDeorum



Series: Personal Demons Verse [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: gonna be some fighting, ill add characters as we goooooo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-06-23 21:26:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15615366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxDeorum/pseuds/LuxDeorum
Summary: amara started a fight club, clearly nothing could go wrong





	1. Chapter 1

Months of work had paid off. Amara tipped her head back, eyeing the rafters of the barn. She and Angela had cleared out most of the stalls, and Angela had strengthened the walls and roof with magic over the course of the past two months, per Amara’s request. She’d also woven other spells into the very walls, and around the house nearby. Amara didn’t want anyone saying she wasn’t prepared.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Angela asked, coming to where Amara was crouched in the center of the room.

Amara huffed, glancing at the circle Angela had burned into the floor. Unmovable, spelled, and yet another failsafe. “Nothing I do is a good idea. It’ll be fun, though, and Tuathal hasn’t seen any disasters coming from this.”

“His vision isn’t infallible,” Angela warned.

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Amara warned, standing. “You know how he is.”

“Amara.”

Amara slung an arm around Angela’s neck. “I’ve got it under control. If things get out of hand I’m right here to take care of it all. The first person to get hurt will likely be me, and you know it.”

“That’s hardly a comfort,” Angela said dryly. “For some unknown reason, I like you, unharmed.”

“Aw, I knew you cared.” Amara laughed, spinning away. “It’ll be fine, and you’ll be here if I get hurt too badly. Which I won’t, because I’m the best at what I do.”

“Some would say that arrogance will cost you one day.”

“Yeah, but that day isnt here yet, and my arrogance is well founded. When are they arriving?” She tugged her jacket off and tossed it to Angela.

“Any moment now.” Angela frowned, hanging the jacket on a nail in the wall. “At least the ones Fabius talked into coming. You did track down the fallen who would be interested, didn’t you?”

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, absolutely.”  She winked.

“And somehow I’m not convinced.” Angela shook her head. Even as she started to continue, the words died on her lips. Her attention swung to the door, just in time for Fabius to wander in, hands in his pockets. Behind him trailed a handful of demons, some more skittish than others.

Amara swept her gaze over them all, already judging them. She narrowed her eyes at the tallest of the bunch, but had her attention dragged back to Angela with a sharp elbow to her side.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” Angela hissed.

“I didn’t know starting an underground fighting ring meant I had to do public speaking,” Amara hissed back, but when Angela scowled, she just laughed, an abrupt break in her facade. She squared her shoulders, and paced forward, settling right on the edge of the ring itself. Before she could say anything, a few stragglers slipped in. Satisfaction bloomed in her chest as she recognized a couple of the fallen she’d spoken to last week. One more demon showed up, witch in tow, but after that, the small crowd settled, eyeing her with varying degrees of suspicion.

“Welcome,” she said, meeting each and every stare with one of her own. “I think, between me, Ange, and Fabi, you all know why we’re here.” She gave a small shrug, stepping forward. “I’ll keep things simple, okay? Inside this ring, there is no magic. Angela made sure of that. Weapons… case to case basis. We’re not here to kill each other. Just good old posturing and ass kicking.” A scoff came from the back of the group, drawing her attention. It was the tall strawberry blonde from earlier. He seemed utterly unimpressed with her glare. She tipped her head to the side, but just went on smoothly. “I don’t think I need to warn you what will happen if one of you tips off heaven or hell about this place. It’s a safe haven to fight without fearing for your life. I can’t be the only asshole who likes brawling.”

Again there was a soft snort, quieter than before but undeniably from the same person as before. Amara could have given him another chance to not be a raging dickwad, but instead she snapped her mouth shut and stepped away from the ring to stand toe to toe with the stranger. He had at least two inches on her, but she met his sky blue gaze with her own steely one, chin tipped up in defiance to his derisively wrinkled nose.

“If you have a problem with how I have things set up, you don’t have to be here,” she said. Rising onto her toes was tempting, but she resisted in favor of staring the demon down. “I don’t appreciate being mocked in my own place. Like I said, if you have issues with it, feel free to fuck off.”

Watching the anger spark in his expression was a delight; she recognized the temper of a man easy to prod into action. “I came at Fabius’ request. I don’t have to put up with being sassed at by a wannabe badass  _mutt_ ,” he snarled.

A ripple of interest went through the crowd. Amara had her own reputation, but not all of them had made the connection between this Amara and Amara the mutt, Heaven’s Vengeance, part angel, part demon, part human, and all vicious killer, if she had to be. Amara let a small smile cross her face as she stepped back. “I wouldn’t call myself a  _wannabe_ badass,” she all but purred. “I do believe my reputation precedes me.”

“Rumours,” he shot back, before adding harshly, “You’re not denying the title mutt.”

“I wouldn’t call it a title,” she drawled. “And why should I deny what I am? Everyone here knows it. Why should it matter, anyway? It’s nothing I’m ashamed of. It makes me unique and gives me advantages I’d never have as one of you, or as one of the angels.”

“Right,” the demon snapped. “Because there’s so much to be proud of about being weaker and more breakable.”

“I’m more resilient than you’d think, and I’ve yet to meet a demon who can claim to best me.” None that had lived much longer, or that she hadn’t tracked down later to put in their place. Amara’s life sometimes depended on her reputation, and the fear it inspired.

“Maybe it’s time someone did,” was the angry retort.

All she did was arch an eyebrow and gesture behind her. “Well. Lucky for us we have somewhere to do let you soothe your little ego, if you feel that’s necessary.” Her smile was creeping back, and she  _knew_  it was the shit eating grin that pissed off anyone in a half mile radius. “Hey, if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll have the honor of being the first person to brawl under my roof  _and_  to be the first to land me on my ass in the ring.”

“It won’t be luck,” he snapped, and that was yes enough for Amara to step back again, retreating until she reached the center of the circle. The magic of the circle was palpable just for a moment, while he followed her across the line, and then it was gone.

“No magic,” she reminded him. She felt bare enough without her heightened instinct, but she refused to let it put her off. It would be hoping too much to expect that his own magic being stripped away would unsettle him enough to give her advantage, but she still found pleasure in the way he blanched slightly. “You can always back out, if you want,” she added, tone too saccharine to be sincere.

That did the trick, because he straightened his shoulders. Even if his magic was stifled while he stood in the ring, his eyes flashed with anger that she knew damn well would make things difficult if he didn’t lose control. Well then. At least she had a goal. A glance at Angela told her, while unhappy, Angela was ready to “referee”.

Angela nodded when Amara met her gaze, and said firmly, “Begin.”


	2. Chapter Two

Amara spat a mouthful of blood on the ground. Not that swallowing it would have done any harm, but it did look more dramatic that way. The demon glared at her, more than a little insulted she had bit him. It wasn't her fault he'd thought it’d be a good idea to grab her, and she’d never promised to play fair. After all, she’d already broken his nose with a well timed punch only moments into the fight. Her fist still ached from the strength she’d put into the blow, and what she wouldn't give to do it again!

The fight was already dragging on longer than she would have liked. Her plan had been to rile him up and watch him crash and burn, but he was holding himself together. Somehow. And that was a problem. A serious problem, because even though Amara was good at what she did, and even though she trained and worked hard to be able to deal with cocky supernatural beings, she was still a little human, and she still wore down quicker than they did.

As of now she kept her distance, of only because she was a little wary of his reach. Even if it'd been amusing to hear him yelp, she didn't think she'd get the chance to bite him again, and wasn't inclined to do so even if she did. Biting was Cin’s thing, not hers. 

He moved quick, striking with the speed of an adder. Amara dove to the side, knowing that she was showing off even as she tucked into a roll and bounced back up. Demonic speed lent him the advantage to slide away before she could do anything of consequence. He had the arrogance to smirk at her frustrated hiss. She flipped him off just for the satisfaction. At least that got answering snarl. 

The next several seconds passed so fast she didn’t have much of a chance to register anything but a blur of strawberry blonde and then her back hitting the ground. She jammed her elbow up, catching his chin. A twist of her hips and a fierce heave had them rolling, and she took the chance the moment she was on top to punch him square on his broken nose all over again. His pained yowl didn’t stop her from doing it one last time. 

He tried to roll over, spitting obscenities, but she wouldn’t have any of that. In a heartbeat she had a blade in hand and was shoving it under his chin. “I think that’s enough,” she panted, meeting his glare. When he squirmed, she jabbed with the knife, just to get her point across. “Do you really want to push me?” She leaned close, voice dropping low. “I know who you are, Sorin.”

Some of the anger faded to make room for confusion. “What-”

“Levant is my cousin you dickwad.” 

She might have gone on, but a sharp, “Amara,” from Angela reminded her she had an audience, even if they couldn’t hear what she was saying to the demon pinned beneath her. She held his gaze for a moment longer anyway, before pushing off him with enough force she could hear the breath huff out of him. Rather than make eye contact with any of the quiet observers, Amara flipped the knife over and sheathed it, stepping across the edge of the circle. 

“Was that necessary?” Angela reprimanded.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Amara shook out the hand she'd punched Sorin with. “Felt damn good though.” She paused, looking over the crowd, and then puffed out s breath. “Might be a good idea if i step out. Can you handle..?” She gestured vaguely around her.

Angela shook her head, and her sigh was loud enough the whole room heard it. “Probably for the best.”

“If you weren't right I'd be a little insulted.”

Angela’s next look was filled with enough frustrated exasperation that Amara huffed out a laugh and ducked out of the barn. The small crowd parted easily for her, which really shouldn't have been a boost to her ego, but then again, she’d never claimed to be a saint. A little fear went a long way, especially when someone was at as much of a disadvantage as she was. After all, they didn't break as easy as she did.

The house was, in the grand scheme of things, far bigger than really necessary. Not that Amara cared. Tu had paid for it; it was his money to waste as he saw fit. He hadn’t even given her a limit on how much to spend, and so she’d not had anything to challenge. In the end, probably because of that, she actually put thought into why she was choosing what she did. She had reasons behind each and every room, even if those reasons were more along the lines of accidentally crashing after a particularly wild night. Even if she also had the cabin for that at this point too.

She slipped inside, flipping lights on as she headed for the kitchen. There was a distinct possibility no one had noticed she’d squirreled away enough of the funds to have a decent stash of liquor. She wouldn’t put it past Angela to pour it all down the drain if she saw just how much Amara had, ah, acquired. 

Satisfied that she’d found what she wanted, she poured a little whiskey in a large mug and tucked it away again. After settling down on the counter to wait for the others, she sipped away. She could at least pretend she wasn’t aiming to get drunk right off the bat. 

By the time Angela walked in she was on her second mug, though this one was more soda than alcohol. Judging by the frown Angela shot her way, she already guessed what Amara had been getting into. As if to confirm this, Angela snagged the mug and poured it down the sink, despite Amara’s protests. 

“It was soda!”

“You’ll be sober, talking to him, or you’ll wait until he dares show his face again,” Angela warned.

“I am completely sober, and you're not my mom.” Amara flipped her off. “I'm pretty sure I'm older than you anyway.”

“In a few decades it won't matter who’s older. The gap won't mean anything compared to how young the humans will seem.” Angela, having rinsed the mug out, moved to put it away. “Be on your best behavior, Amara. No murder. No one has died in this house before, and I'd like to keep it that way.”

“You're no fun,” Amara muttered as she slid off the counter. “And anyway,  I already made at least ten promises to Lev not to kill him. I'm a woman of my word. When I feel like it, in any case, and I felt like it for at least seven of those promises.”

Angela grabbed her arm before she could walk out. “Amara. Please.”

“You hate the asshole too.” Amara’s temper flared, brief and fierce. “You've known me long enough to believe me. He won't die by my hand tonight. I just want to talk to the fucker, alright?”

“This is a lot of effort to just meet a guy,” Angela said cautiously. 

Abruptly, Amara laughed, as if she’d never been angry. “Oh, honey, no. The fight club wasn't just for that. I really do like getting punched in the face. Makes life more fun. This was more of an added perk.”

“I will never understand you,” Angela sighed, letting go. 

Another grin, as Amara said, “Good. Rather be an enigma than boring.”

“You are anything but,” was the dry response. 


End file.
